Semyon Prives' life story reads like a classic American immigrant-makes-good tale. Of Ukrainian origin, he hurdled a series of obstacles.

He overcame Kremlin resistance to permitting him to leave his homeland and learned a new language -- from scratch and in a hurry. He also established himself in an unfamiliar environment as a professional capable of performing complex evaluations vital to an undertaking as mammoth as the expansion of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.

Mr. Prives performed an essential function here, giving developers detailed analyses of future costs that they could use to budget accurately, said Wayne Mote of Jacobs Engineering.

Mr. Prives' was able to look well beyond engineers' estimates of the cost of materials for a project and factor in all sorts of variables -- costs for labor, fuel, shipping, downtime, etc.

Mr. Mote said Mr. Prives worked for him on multiple airport improvements -- an automated people mover, a new rental car center and the extension of a runway. "Semyon was passionate about his work and very capable at defending his conclusions," he said.

Semyon Prives, 79, of Lilburn, died Tuesday at Emory Eastside Medical Center of a heart attack. He was buried after a graveside service Wednesday at Greenlawn Cemetery. Dressler's Jewish Funeral Care was in charge of arrangements.

Born in 1932 in Odessa, now part of Ukraine, Mr. Prives moved with his family a year later to Tashkent, now the capital of Uzbekistan, where his father worked as a barber at night and studied during the day to become a doctor. In 1941, he was inducted into the Red Army as a combat physician. The war years were difficult for young Semyon Prives and his mother; they barely had enough to eat, said Mr. Prives' daughter, Anna Shmukler of Johns Creek.

After the war, his family resettled in Lvov, now part of Ukraine, where Semyon Prives went to high school and college, graduating with a degree in economics. In time, he became a specialist making cost estimates for construction projects, one of them a pipeline from Siberia to Central Europe.

Just the same, his daughter said, he was frustrated by the dim career prospects for someone like himself who was Jewish and refused to join the Communist Party. He listened surreptitiously to forbidden late-night broadcasts of Voice of America and dreamed of a future in this country.

In 1979, he made application to emigrate, a decision that rankled Soviet authorities, who made life hard for him and his family. Within a year, though, he was permitted to leave, and he brought his wife, son and daughter, and the latter's husband and infant daughter with him.

Coming to America, Mr. and Mrs. Prives lived first in Milwaukee, where he got a job in a factory. He knew hardly any English, his daughter said, but he taught himself, studying on the bus going to and from work and in the midst of his monotonous factory routine. He was determined, his daughter said, to make the most of his talents and never be a burden on society.

A year later, he was sending resumes to construction firms around the nation. The Bechtel Corp.'s San Francisco office hired him to work on pipeline projects in the Mideast. That job fell through, however, because of an economic downturn, but he found temporary work with a couple of construction firms.

Since his daughter and her family had settled in Atlanta, Mr. Prives and his wife decided to do likewise. He bought a sandwich shop in Snellville, and he and his wife ran it for a year until he again found work as a construction consultant.

Employed by several building firms, he had to make another adjustment, his daughter said -- familiarizing himself with computer software and mastering it with customary diligence.

For 15 years, she said, he was involved in the construction of the airport's fifth runway and its new international terminal. He retired from fulltime work five years ago but continued consulting on request until the end of last year.

In 2009, he lost vision in his left eye and last December went blind in his right eye because of an infection following cataract surgery. Undaunted, his daughter said, he learned to use an iPad to send email and to keep up on current events, a passion of his.

Survivors also include his wife, Betya Prives; a son, Stan Prives of Great Neck, N.Y.; five grandchildren and one great-grandchild.